


coax the cold

by mildlyobsessive



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: At least I tried, Dark, Experimental Style, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Minimalism, Yikes, i don't think it's that good but read it anyway, i think, im desperate for approval thanks, it's just less detailed than my other stuff, makes me mildly uncomfortable and I wrote it, numb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9116023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mildlyobsessive/pseuds/mildlyobsessive
Summary: It's raining.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Bite by Troye Sivan which is the most gorgeous thing ever to exist and also has the kind of eerie-ish vibe I was going for here so yeah listen to it 
> 
> Also yeah I'm alive and writing trash again look at that

It's raining when Josh finds him.

There is nothing beautiful in it. The sky is not crying for him. God has no remorse. It is raining, and that is all.

It's raining, and the forest is muddy, leaves a track of footprints behind him as he treks through the brush. A wet squelch accompanies his every step and the sound makes Josh nauseous. It is spring, and the ground crawls with worms. The dirt moves with them like a tidal wave.

He thinks he throws up.

It's raining, and the trees sag, let the water pour down Josh's back, clot in his hair. It does not mix with his tears. He is not crying.

The tears are gone, now. Spent. He knows what he's come here to find. He knew when he started out.

Tyler's note left little to the imagination.

So his hands shake and his feet stick in the mud and his stomach empties its contents somewhere into the underbrush, but Josh does not cry. 

He reaches a stream, overflowing from the downpour, rushing away into the trees with enviable tenacity. 

He steps into it, steps back out the other side soaking wet and shaking harder. 

It does not wash him away.

He doesn't know whether or not he's disappointed about that. 

He doesn't know how long he stays out there, how long he wanders, hoping he doesn't find him. Praying furiously every time he rounds a corner that Tyler is not there is not there is not there. 

He supposes it was irrational to think that his luck would hold out. 

It's raining when Josh finds him.

The water mingles in Tyler's hair, mixes with the blood that's making its way down his face. 

Tyler has stained the leaves under his head red like the beginning of autumn.

It's March, Josh thinks, but he does not say it. There is no one around to hear.

He thinks he should be hysterics. And he was, earlier. He kicked and screamed and clipped three mailboxes with how badly he drove here. He knows that if he rummaged through Tyler's pockets and grabbed his phone, he would find the twenty-three voicemails and three hundred and seventy-seven texts messages he's sent in the last hour, desperate and pleading.

But now it is deadly quiet and Josh is alone in the woods with what used to be his best friend. 

He should feel something.

He wipes the watery blood off of Tyler's forehead, cards his fingers through his hair, tries to dig up some semblance of tears from deep inside himself.

His hand hits a hole in Tyler's skull and comes away bloody.

Josh throws up. There's no doubt about it this time. 

The gun is in Tyler's hand and there is still a finger on the trigger. Josh shakes it loose, pulls it away from him like he should have done an hour ago. 

And maybe it's the watery grip, soggy from rain, or maybe it's that Josh's hands are shaking worse than they ever have before, but he drops the gun.

It hits Tyler's stomach and Josh just stares. 

There is a worm on Tyler's arm.

Josh has nothing left in his stomach.

He pushes himself up onto his feet, stares down at him. Whispers "fuck you," and dials 911.

When he sees red-blue-white lights in the distance he stares at the gun for a long while. But then the cops are there, paramedics marching in like they can change anything, and it is still raining and Josh does not cry.


End file.
